Walking Alone on an Evening in Spring

My soul now buoyant on a springtime breeze

Ascends from restful greens to stirring blue

And reaches heights above the hills with ease

Where I can sing as droll cloud faces do.

Disdainful of horizons built today,

I strain to see my far tomorrow’s brow,

But future’s time is always hid away

And inescapably my time is now.

Yet now is life, astride the boist'rous sky,

Not with the books weighed down by human wit

Or mess of papers void of wisdom’s eye

Or screens of let’s pretend so dimly lit.

Up here I travel where my soul would run

And see with penetration like the sun.

May 28, 2013 (rev., 2017)